


Desolation Row

by FakeSunsets



Category: Fall Out Boy, Green Day, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, M/M, Vampires, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-09-14
Packaged: 2019-06-15 10:35:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15411042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FakeSunsets/pseuds/FakeSunsets
Summary: Let's just forget about the worldLike nothing has ever happenedAnd all we know is happinessGo to a new world of indulgenceWhere nothing bad ever happensThis is pretty pure unless you count the violent descriptions...





	1. Vampires Will Never Hurt You

_Let's just forget about the world_

_Like nothing has ever happened_

_And all we know is happiness_

_Go to a new world of indulgence_

_Where nothing bad ever happens_

Gerard continued to scratch his message into a wooden plank. Scraping, tearing, climbing into a different world of his writing. His small silver switchblade that he used to carve out the letters. The blade no longer has a purpose other than to carve these words. 

_A universe free of predators_

_Free of werewolves to hunt us_

_No humans to bind us_

_Vampires will never hurt you_

Never trust a legend. All stories are true some say, but that’s a stretch. All stories have a _hint_ of truth. Vampires got themselves a horrible reputation from the wrong doings of a few. Only some psychotic vampires that decide to go, and have a killing spree. Now people want vampires gone. One horrible misconception is that vampires _require_ blood to live. The truth is, those who drink blood just do out of a diet choice, there are vegetarian vamps. Eating the seeds of fruit provide a comfort for fangs to chew on, and since seeds are bits of life like blood, provide the same energy when eaten. Gerard didn’t know how the hell the science or magic behind it worked, and he didn’t care. What matters is that he didn’t need blood to live. He felt his fangs poke the sides of his cheeks, just as a person may clench their hands with nails digging into their palms. A product of frustration.

It was the werewolves fault. Werewolves and vampires didn’t get along, that was truth enough. Wars have broken out over the many millennia, along with petty street fights that could result in death. In this case it was the death of his grandmother, Elena. A group of werewolves decided it attack. Who attacks someone who is alone? She didn’t do anything wrong to them. Returning home after grocery shopping, normal and inoffensive. Existing isn’t a valid reason for elimination. They had transformed, their claws out. Shredding the skin on her stomach like paper through a grinder. Gerard got to the crime scene after they covered her corpse. He saw her head disappear, zipped shut behind a white body bag. It was a mistake to go through the police files. Her intestines were hanging out of the cuts on her stomach. Blood soaked through her entire shirt and pants. Her fingers were twisted in unnatural angles, like someone had taken the time to break all her fingers before fleeing the crime scene. Bruises covered her body, proof of kicking and beating, the photo was black and white, yet he could imagine the purple and yellow colour of such large awful marks. Her jaw was slack, died screaming for help. The worst was the eyes. Vampires are undead, their eyes reflect more light than the average human making them appear more vivid and shiny. Now they her pupils were black pits, wide open. Bloody tears dried to her face. Empty eyes. Devoid of life. The eyes were even worst at the cremation ceremony. The morticians tried their best to cover the bruises with makeup, but they can’t restore life to the eyes. There is an emptiness left. A void never to be filled again. To see such a thing, twisted the mind and wrenched the heart. Souls must be real, but he only knew that once he saw a soul gone. The light gone from the skin, instead replaced by a unnatural pallor and stillness. He saw eyes that would never glow up with joy again, lips that would never feel a smile pull up their corners. A shell. A perfect replica of someone who had been. But with something so horribly wrong. He looking at the other half of a ghost. Family and friend stared at the body silently weeping, remembering the good times. But Gerard turned away in fear and horror. She will never be the same, permanently gone. A shell of who she once was. He started taking deep breaths to calm a racing, aching heart. Only to look again. It just confirmed the truth. She was gone forever. All that remained was an imposter who which we mourn for. They set the corpse in the coffin alight, in memeory of those of their kind burnt alive by the hoard. They sit the coffin vertical as it’s consumed in flames an ode to those staked through the heart and tied to fence posts in warning. The ashes floated off with the wind, whirling and twisting before being showered off the hilltop onto the tombstones of the graveyard below. She had left so long ago. Had so much more life to live, leaving him in anguish. Another misconception is that werewolves and vampires live forever, no, they just age about 4 times slower in than humans. Elena was 238, a little more than 100 years left for an average undead span before they flake apart in the wind. Just like ashes in the sky. So much life ahead of her, taken away. 

_Yet we are grounded to this world_

_A punishment undeserving_

_Yet we can remember the blood_

_Long ago_

_Elena couldn’t stay_

_So long and goodnight_

_So long not goodnight_

Gerard took the wooden memorial and buried it. The log would decompose to rejoin the soil. It seemed so many years ago he had seen his grandmother’s smile, yet he remembered it like it was yesterday. 

In reality it has been 3 months ago since the attack. After the burial Gerard had run away into the forest where he was now. He needed no company but the swaying of the branches to comfort him. The calamity of the trees unfound in the city or suburbia. Time to come to terms with grief, as it shoved it’s poison down his throat. 

He covered the log with dirt and packed it down, placing a stone on top. Nobody would notice, and the stone would likely be kicked over by some forest dwelling animal who will never know what is under it. Slowly he began to retreat to a small cave he could call home. Nothing spectacular, for it wasn’t spectacular he needed. It provided a place for him to carve another mural in the stone. It was more permanent than the logs, stone can hold the past and deliver it to the future. Sending its message to whoever glances upon its surface. Giving memory to people who deserve to never be forgotten. 

“GERARD!”, he heard his name screamed from the mouth of the cave. The voice was filled with absolute elation, so it didn’t scare him. Yet the shattering of his silence made him tense all over, ready to fight. Then he was embraced with a bear hug. “Mikey!”, he replied a faint smile playing on his face. Who else would it be? A small smile, but filled with really joy at the presence of his brothers loving embrace. 

Mikey had immediately taken of after Gerard when he saw his brother running. He found Gerard laying of the forest floor staring at the stars. Mikey was the only person who knew where Gerard was. Knowing that it was best not to stay, only visit, Mikey left to let Gerard rest the turmoil of his mind and went to console their parents. Letting them know their sons were fine, so they could work through the passing of grandmother.

“Wow Gee, the mural really has been coming along!”, Mikey observed smiling at the portrait of their grandmother that was shaping with more and more detail each time he came. Mikey found it fascinating how Gerard could shape something beautiful and meaningful out of seemingly nothing. The simple stone wall is a drug to him. Each little chisel bringing the finish product closer, but still out of reach. The need for completion addicting him to keep working away. 

“It will never be perfect.”, Gerard whispered under his breath, staring down at the floor while returning his brothers embrace. Mikey could hear the whisper perfectly well, vampiricly enhanced hearing. Perhaps humans disliked vampires, because they feeling challenged by vampires. Only humans, hating what is different instead of loving what they are. 

“Nothing's perfect.”, replied Mikey, holding his older brother on the shoulder now, trying to meet his downward gaze. “But you can make it look the best out of anyone on this planet.”. 

“Well aliens better keep their distance and respect it then.”, Gerard added. 

“They better.”, Mikey smiler. 

“Thanks for visiting Mikes.”.

“You know I couldn’t leave you alone in your cave for more than one week.”.

“How’s mom and dad doing?”, Gerard asked. Guessing he should probably catch up on what’s happening outside his stretch of the woods. 

“They’re good.”, Mikey shrugged. But as he shifted his weight one foot to another, Gerard knew there was more to the story. He raised his eyebrow and quirked the side of his mouth up, silently asking for elaboration. Mikey sighed, “They want to see you again!”, he exploded, in distress “You were never expected to leave until you turned 18, not run away at 16! They miss you…”. The law viewed vampires as inhuman, and didn’t give them as much protection, that included not requiring parents to take care of their vampiric children. So the law didn’t get mad at the Way parents for letting their son live in the woods.

Gerard closed his eyes. Imagining his parents, how could he leave them so worried. They would be more worried if they saw the state he was currently in, he consoled himself. He hadn’t just his hair in a year, it nearly touched his shoulders and was covered in grease. “I’m not ready yet.”, he whispered. _will I ever be ready_

“I know, that’s why I haven’t told you yet.” Mikey replied in the same silence. 

They stood together in the stillness of the cave. Then settled on just sitting down and thinking in a brotherly companionship. 

“So, have you mastered the art of turning into a bat?”, asked Gerard. That was something both vampires and werewolves have in common, although they are still different. For a vampire to turn into a bat it takes practice, unlike the instinctive ease werewolves changed. And the bat was definitely not as good at attacking compared to a humanoid shaped vampire, where as a werewolf has claws and canines that are much better defensively than their punches. In werewolf form, they can run much faster compared to a two legged dash. There is another similarity between werewolves and vampires, and that’s that they can transform humans. For a werewolf it’s through a bite and then a scratch by claw over that, by the same werewolf of course. It makes it significantly harder to accidently transform a human. For vampires, the vampire much consume the blood of that human, then have the human consume their blood. It’s not something the human can just puke out, after they consume that blood, they _will_ be a vampire. New werewolves suffer a painful first transformation, they have multiple extremely violent seizures on the full moon night and lose control of their own body, yet remain consciously aware of what’s going on. An all too real version of sleep paralysis filled convulsions and violently shaking throughout the limbs. Their vision turns blood red, pain spiking thoroughly the torso. Transformed werewolves say that they feel as if something is trying to rip out the inside of their chest and their bones are trying to break themselves. Bending and morphing a horrible process. If the human body was a clay vase, this transformation smashes out parts of them and fills it differently to be filling with wild power. Usually after the transformation ordeal, the werewolf passes out for the night because of the immense pain and stress, those who don’t pass out usually go on a dangerous rampage, either hurting others or themselves. After the first night, they can control when they transform with ease, and usually go tell family. Then often try to join a pack of of new instincts. The packs are modernized, and more like organized friend groups where the werewolves can live their lives as usual, and fulfill their urge to be in a pack with weekly or sometimes even more frequent meetups.

Vampires have another grim process of change, they must die before they become a vampire. And that death will happen within a year of the blood drink at max. The vampiric blood goes into their bloodstream killing off white blood cells making catching of disease almost inevitable. If disease doesn’t kill them, over the year the reproducing vampiric blood cells hijacks the humans brain, giving it the sole purpose of self destruction. Classic suicide attempts such as hanging, cutting, and jumping are used to end their own life. Or sometimes the brain simply tells your respiratory system to stop breathing, blocking their subconscious will. It could tell your jaw to bite down so hard you shatter your own jaw and die from blood loss, tell the bone marrow to stop producing blood cells and dry up from the inside, make you crave the taste of bleach, make fire look like the perfect mattress, or even tell your heart to stop beating. If that doesn’t work the vampire blood kills off all the human in them, so they die slowly, replacing each cell with a new undead one. In some unique cases, humans have cut their own head off, a doctor gave themselves a lethal injection. Someone tried to attach themselves to a firework, but it only burnt down their back and set them on fire. So they decided to shoot themselves through the gut with the remaining firework, it burnt through their flesh leaving. An untidy hole right through their middle, ripping apart organs as their clothing caught flame burning skin as blood ran down their body, the flames were smothered with their own blood. As soon as the human has died their fangs fly out, viciously tearing out their previous teeth, the taste of their own blood is good enough to keep them from rampaging until they can sort out what has happened. At that point some lose their minds going on a harming or self harming rampage like some new werewolves, while others might try and tell family of their situation, or run away to a vampire community hoping for safety. Vampires are less accepted than werewolves, labeled more dangerous. That’s why a significant number of vampires don’t tell their families in fear of rejection. The vampires try and find vampiric groups usually. These group meetup around once a month or less, they are more like a group therapy, so they feel less alone in an unaccepting world so different from themselves. Some vamps seek homes they can live at, especially children and teens turned into vampires who were rejected from their homes. They try to stay low key, an attempt to blend into normal life. Being undead their skin is pale, and if unnourished can appear greenish or grey. As for the fangs, they retract, but still appear extremely sharp compared to normal human canines. A less noticeable feature is the slightly pointed tongue, but it used by vampire targeting gangs to identify a vamp.

“Yup, a can transform into a bat like a pro now.”, Mikey reported. 

“Nice.”, Gee smiled. Mikey was 12, 4 years younger than him. Vampire aging was strange, luckily the 0-25 years aging process went the same speed as the average human, then it slowed down, so the aging slows down times 4, so by 29 vampires and werewolves have aged visabley and genetically by only one year. According to the weird world of vampire puberty and growth Mikey looked So at Elena’s age when she died, she was at the physical welfare of 50. 

Mikey stood up, twisting his arms and stretching.  
3.  
2..  
1…  
Mikey jumped up as high as he could brown hair flipping up and back, against his head, his clothing didn’t shrink with him of course. Mikey’s body began to shrink, his head seemed to almost start to fuse to his neck, fur growing on his body then he shrunk out of sight. Then a bat flew out of Mikey’s shirt. Squeezing around the cave and landing upside down on a stalactite. Then bat Mikey flew back to his clothes and began to transform back into a vampire. This time Gerard looked the other way, and heard Mikey groan, “I always forget you’re clothes don’t transform with you.”. Gerard chuckled, the same thing had happened to him when he first learned to transform. He was so excited about he new found ability he wanted to show it off immediately. One flaw is evolution didn’t allow for clothing to change with you. Imagine that, a group of bats wearing jeans and t-shirts. What a sight that would be. 

Mikey ran behind a bush and changed back into his clothes to preserve his dignity. Then he plopped back on the ground next the Gerard. “You know that was going to happen.”, grumbled Mikey with a light note still in his voice. Gerard chuckled. 

“Of course I knew.”.

Then the brothers climbed ontop of the cave to watch the sunset over the trees. Gerard knew he would have to go back home. He just hoped that the pain of loss would lessen soon so he could bear to see the city again. _I will get better_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just started this because I was bored, but it seems fun and I might make this a series. I rambled on a bit about transforming into werewolves and vampires, hope the details helped give you more of a sense of this world though!


	2. The House of Wolves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The light of sunset was blinding. Frank has been sitting in the meeting room of The House of Wolves for hours on end. The House of Wolves is the most notorious werewolf pack on the east coast of the USA.

The light of sunset was blinding. Frank has been sitting in the meeting room of The House of Wolves for hours on end. The House of Wolves is the most notorious werewolf pack on the east coast of the USA. He managed to be one of the lowest in rank, required to listen to the decisions being made, but give no input himself. Democratic republic what? Doubt they have heard of that. Their decisions made him sick. They were notorious for murder. He was born into the system, no choice in the matter of being here or not. The thirst for blood of the innocent to be spilt wasn’t a desire he had. Yet others told him it ran in his own blood. 

Frank’s father was turned into a werewolf, the violent transformation, it very nearly ran him over the edge of insanity. He was forever changed from a collected and respected young man to a werewolf who hungered for the sight of pain and suffering. He somehow still managed to win over Frank’s mother with these murderous tendencies. He was often violent towards his son and wife. Rampages of uncontrolled rage. This ferocity let him climb up the ranks of The House of Wolves, The House for short. Frank was up in those ranks before, because of his fathers name, but quickly kicked to nearly bottom level for refusing repeatedly to hurt and injure the vampires they attacked. A shame to the family name the pack said. He didn’t care though, it is a tainted family name. 

Frank looked up at the setting sun on the hilltop. It’s warm rays blocked out by a frosty breeze, breeze blocked by his black sweater to support the lack of warm from the Sun. There is hill in the center of a graveyard with a stone monastery on top. It was vampire tradition to burn the twice dead. The ashes would flow down from the hilltop like a river in the sky. Falling on the graveyard grounds, and areas of the surrounding city. Ashes began to waft their way down. A snowfall made of sadness, death, and murder. If you listen closely, you could hear the cries of families mourning their loss. He once again thought of all those who his father has ordered to be killed or killed himself. Was this really his destiny? He couldn’t leave the pack, they would hunt him down. Leaving is treason. Treason is punishable by death. The autumn wind blew his black dyed hair out of his eyes. Dammit, he would have to get a full view of this terrible world now.

He made his shuffling way down the cracked pavement. People pulled their loved ones out of his way, like he was the grim reaper. A touch bringing upon them death. He never wanted this life, wandering home after meeting about where to kill someone next. People gasping in terror when they saw his eyes. Werewolves have the signature glowing eyes. But everyone knew that the leader of The House had strange hazel gold eyes. Just like Frank. An unlucky pull from the genetic lottery in his opinion. The ring around his pupil was golden, which blended into the hazel mixture and gradienting into very dark gold around the edge of the iris. Almost like a old golden coin. It’s a piercing colour, normal eyes, even for a werewolf the outer ring of the iris is black. It is piercing and different, separating him from even fellow werewolves. A giant brand on his face saying he was the son of an active serial killer. Well believe serial killer, the police could never prove that it was The House killing across the east coast. Never sufficient evidence, and they had some good lawyers on their side. Poor lawyers. 

Eventually Frank made it to his shabby little apartment. He unlocked the door, green paint peeling off it. A little fur ball dashed into his legs. YAP YAP!

“Sweet Pea!”, he exclaimed lovingly. This had to be the best part of everyday. Getting to be reunited with this dog. “Who’s been a good girl? Who’s been a good girl?”, Frank cooed ruffling her black little ears between his fingers and making sure to give her lots of belly rubs. Sweet Pea wagged her tail overjoyed that Frank had returned. And that meant love and food was to come. 

Frank made his way to the kitchen a few paces away. A happy doggy following him like his own little tail. He scooped up a cup of dog food. Sweet Pea began to do a a happy dance on her back two legs. Eyes begging and small feet desperately moving around to avoid falling over.   
“Sit.”   
She sat down eyes still laser focused on the cup of food. Slowly Frank grabbed the dog food bowl. Sweet Pea began to inch her head forward slowly, still sitting though desperate to get to the bowl. He poured the food into the bowl and put it on the floor in front of his feet. A foot away from a very hungry and impatient Sweet Pea.   
“Go!”  
The little dog launched forward. Zooming to the feeding bowl, chewing up the kibble in delight. 

Frank smiled, watching his happy little dog gobble up her food. He wasn’t hungry, and settled onto a beaten up sofa in the living area. He picked up his guitar. It was a dark red body with a black pickguard. He didn’t bother to plug in the amp and began strumming on it just to release tension. Listens to the muted sounds of the electric guitar unplugged. Chords whispering their music into his ears. He started to absentmindedly hum to the music. Playing to tell the world what was wrong and to forgot what was wrong at the same time. It makes no sense in words, but is crystal clear as he played. In a world where he was the problem he could transport himself to one where he could be part of the solution. That thought and Sweet Pea was the only thing that kept him on this planet. Her soft little paws padded into the distressed living room. There was trash, laundry, and dust filling every corner, but the Sweet Pea didn’t mind. She jumped up onto the sofa curling up next to Frank's legs, stretched out were he laid. Quickly escaling off into the dream world. 

Frank sighed smiling at the little dog, carefully moving his legs as not to disturb the sleeping puppy. But to no avail. She looked up at him in a betrayed sort of manner, asked why he would ever leave her. He walked into the bedroom to sleep on the mattress on the floor. He didn’t bother to buy a bed frame, it did its job perfectly well on the floor in his opinion. He plopped down onto the bed in his sweater and jeans, not bothering to change into pajamas. He threw a blanket onto of himself and looked out the window at the cloud filled sky. Sweet Pea now decided right next to his chest was a good sleeping spot. The clouds moved in at a seemingly slow pace. When in reality they were going hundreds of miles an hour, racing across the sky. He closed his eyes, willing the dream world to absorb him into a place everyone is accepted. Somewhere that murder isn’t part of his life. He imagining what a place would be like, existential thoughts raging to break the barrier peace he created. And after fighting off the thoughts of death and existentialism plaguing his mind. The welcoming hands of sleep wrapped around his head. Taking Frank away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yup, I’m gonna write some stuffs.


	3. Howling At The Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sweet Pea jolted out of her sleep as Frank fell a foot down from his mattress onto the dirty carpet. She was, to say the least unimpressed by her owners loud process of awakening her, and lack of motor-skills.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Used a RAMONES (oh thanks autocorrect imma keep that there) song title for the title instead.

The glaring morning sun sheared through the plastic blinds of Frank’s window. _The damn blinds won’t protect me anymore._ He huffed up onto his feet, sorta. It would better be described as a roll onto the floor. Sweet Pea jolted out of her sleep as Frank fell a foot down from his mattress onto the dirty carpet. She was, to say the least unimpressed by her owners loud process of awakening her, and lack of motor-skills. She showed him how it was done, stretch out her hind legs and gracefully jumping down to the floor and to the doorway. Frank grunted, and picked himself up. Mornings, he decided, want him to dead. 

Stumbling into the kitchen, Frank threw together a quick breakfast of eggs a glass of almond milk. Just your neighborhood vegetarian werewolf. His mother tried to raise him vegetarian,but his father wasn’t a fan of that diet and decided to take him on hunting trips. The stalking of prey took too long for his liking and the blood gushing from rabbits and other animals wounds reminded him they were all alive. And that look of blank death in the eyes still was there. He shuddered, no matter how many times he had seen it, to look in the eyes of the dead was horrific. 

Scooping a cup of dog food for Sweet Pea he placed it on the ground, there was stuff he actually had to do today. He went in the bathroom and ruffled his hair around then splashed water on his face. Good to go. He started to peek open the front door when frantic paws raced after him. “Sorry girl, I have to go now.”, Frank cooed, giving her some goodbye pets. “See you later.”. Sweet Pea whines softly, but didn’t try to race out the door. Small dog versus giant swinging door didn’t go down well, and she had finally learned that after someone almost smashed her in the doorframe. Frank locked the front door, and strode down the breaking pavements. _This is the most important meeting I’ll ever go to._

Bob Bryar stood on the outskirts of the forest leaning against a tree. What the hell was he doing meeting up with Scarface's son? He knew that the boy was complete garbage at the murder thing, and Bob was as well. The difference between the two is that Bob climbed up the ranks, stomaching the blood on his claws. The murder was getting too much, Bobs conscious was about to explode if he didn’t help at least one victim. That was the plan. There was a pair of brothers that lived right at the woods end, still part of town, yet almost exiled to the edge. They had killed their grandmother a year ago, and Scarface wanted to finish off the younger generation as well. This would be the 2nd time he spared someone. First as for a vampire named Peter Whoz or something. He was part of the fight for equality for vampires and humans alike, Bob couldn’t do it. Killing a deer instead to proved the blood all over him as a kill and telling Peter’s friends to have a fake burning of the deers corpse. 

Frank saw the bleach hairs tall man standing against a tree. Staring forebodingly straight in front of him. “Hey.”, Frank called hand in the air as greeting. Bob grunted and faced Frank. Bobs eyes were a silvery blue, like the beginning of a thunderstorm. “So the plan is, kill a couple of deer and tell the brothers to get the hell out of town.”, Bob supplied. 

“Wait,”, pondered Frank confused, “It’s really that simple?”. 

“Yup, if you have a high enough rank,”, Bob looked a Frank in an annoyed yet teasing way, “A body isn’t required to be provided.” 

“But my dad will know we didn’t when 2 bodies aren’t burnt.”

“Their parents live out of town we could say we left it for the family to find.”

Frank shuddered, imagining what would happen if they actually left the two bodies for their parents to find their sons dead. The scent of death reeking through the entire home. “But,”, Bob smiled. _Oh no_ Frank thought, of course it isn’t that easy. “We have to get the blood from the deer and cover their house in it.”

“What!”, Frank exclaimed.

“Someone might check the crimescene.”. 

Now that would be absolutely disgusting. Poor, poor deer. “Better find our sacrifices now.”. Bob trudged deeper into the woods, looking a demented lumberjack. Frank stifled a laugh at he thought. They were a pair of demented lumberjacks. 

“There.”, whispered Bob, pointed out two bucks just minding their business grazing. Technically they were still commuting a crime, because they didn’t have a hunting license. Pick your crime, killing vampires or picking off a couple deer during hunting season. Although it was still murder, Frank considered it a lesser crime. Two less deer would mean more of the limited grass for the others, he said in his justification. Even though it was justicated in his mind, he thought of killing something sent boulders rolling around his gut. A personalized avalanche going on inside of his body and mind. Bob jumped out, quickly transforming mid-air into a wolf. Frank followed as quickly has he close, shutting his mind up. The wind rustled in his fur, then he landed on the deer, predatory instinct made him rip out the deers heart quickly and instantly. It was one fluid motion, land and rip, the buck never had a chance. Frank had not time to reconsider. He transformed back into a human, and began to vomit onto the forest floor. There was blood on his hands and death of another on his conscious. 

“Dude!”, Bob exclaimed! “I didn’t even believe you were Scarface’s son, except for the eyes. But that attack! It's in your blood man.”. Bob seemed much to happy about this revelation. “You okay?”, Bob then questioned. Frank was not okay. He was deathly pale, knees trembling, and arms wrapped up around his midsection. 

“Let’s just finish this up.”, Frank managed to croak out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It puts the notes for the first chapter here for some reason? So now hopefully those notes are gone to the correct chapter?? Smh what has happened???


	4. With Words I Thought I'd Never Speak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Then a loud, untimely, banging was throw on the door, jolting Gerard out of his drawing trance.   
> “Pete? Was that you.”, Gerard called. Some annoying attempt at keeping him on his toes. He heard the bang again, louder this time coming from the front door his could tell. Sighing, he paced over to the door and peered through the peephole. That definitely wasn’t Pete.

Their coffee pot let out its familiar growl, dispersing its alluring aroma around their home. Also rousing Gerard from a fitful sleep. Eyes looking, evil clung to his every breath, waiting to attack. But that was just a dream, life was a toned down version of that. He slowly peeled himself out of the comforting soft of his blanket heading towards the kitchen. “Mornin’ Mikey.”, Gee mumbled through his sleepy haze. _Why the hell did vampires even need sleep, they weren’t alive._ Evolution is weird, Gerard concluded, a real weird thing. 

“Morning.”, Mikey replied, he sounded a bit more peppy than usual. But the singular goal of getting to the coffee pot made Gerard discard that fact faster than he probably should have. 

“Nice bedhead.”, another voice peeped in. That definity caught Gerard off guards, he jumped and spun around to see Pete had joined Mikey for breakfast. 

“Damn Pete, you scared me.”, sighed Gerard. 

“Here to keep ya on your toes.”, replied Pete with his rambunctious grin. Mikey gave them both a warm smile. Gerard wasn’t too upset though, Pete had an uncanny ability to make Mikey smile. That was a magic power beyond any shadow of a doubt. Gerard soon had his coffee mug in hand and went over to his art corner, not wanting to bug the bubbling two. There was a concept tugging the the creative wires of his mind. Itching to fly onto a piece of paper. He let the idea flow out of his hands and spread across the page. A controlled ink spill it almost seemed. Time had no meaning in the world he created. Reality loosened its grip on his mind letting all imagination flow anywhere it wished. Then a loud, untimely, banging was throw on the door, jolting Gerard out of his drawing trance. 

“Pete? Was that you.”, Gerard called. Some annoying attempt at keeping him on his toes. He heard the bang again, louder this time coming from the front door his could tell. Sighing, he paced over to the door and peered through the peephole. That definitely wasn’t Pete. Two werewolves were outside their door holding bags of blood. _What the actual fuck?_ Gerard whispered. “Mikey!”, he murmured just loud enough for his brother to hear. Mikey and Pete ran out from the living room. “Two angry werewolves.” Gerard whispered. Pete’s eyes grew wide, and he grabbed a rolling pin and some knives from the kitchen, baring his fangs. Then passed out the makeshift weapons.

“Open the door.”, Pete growled. Gerard grabbed the rolling pin, and swung the door open quickly, instantaneously bringing the object down on the taller of the two outside their door. But his target had moved uncannily fast, making Gerard lose his balance due to his forward momentum. The smaller one, even faster sped into the house, using a rope at his side to try and tie up the others in the house. Gerard felt a gag shoved in his mouth during his distraction, and brought out his fangs to pierce the skin of the one who had placed it. Hot blood ran down his chin, accompanied with a annoyed yelp. He got to his feet, trying to wing his makeshift weapon again. But the werewolf swatted away the marble pin as if it no more than an measilly stick. _Dammit he is wearing armor._ The situation was going horribly. He heard Mikey scream from inside their home, he instinctively whipped his head to face the his brother. The small one had somehow managed to disarm them both, tie and gag Pete, and was going for Mikey next. Gerard tried to lung towards him, but the larger werewolf threw him to the ground, quickly tying his hands up behind him. He struggled, kicking his legs in an attempt to kick the man off, trying to roll around. It was no use. The man sat on his legs and had his feet either side of Gerard dullening his attempts at rolling over. Gerards hands were quickly bound, followed by his torso and legs. He watched helplessly as the same happened to Mikey, Pete knocked unconscious. They were all going to die. 

Mikey was thrown, tied up to the ground on top of unconscious Pete. The small attacker turned to face Gerard struggling on the ground. Gerard was petrified, staring feebly into his golden eyes. It was as if they had shut off Gerards urge to fight he relaxed onto the ground fixated on that one golden point. The eyes whispered of calamity and relaxation. There was no reason to fight, violence isn’t the answer. Then the gold began to lose its captivating glow and reality seeped back in. Gerard was completely restrained now. The black haired werewolf whispered what sounded like a sorry. Then with a dull thud, everything went black. 

“Dude what the fuck was that?”, questioned Bob. They had thrown the three vampires into their car, driving farther down the abandon road into the forest. 

“I don’t know.”, Frank replied. “It was real weird. Everything looked brighter, I had so much energy it was lashing out, and they didn’t struggle at all.” 

“Well it’s pretty sick how fast you got those two down.”. Frank didn’t reply this time. Only sighed looking out the passenger seat window. The trees whizzed by in a molten green and brown haze. The ground rolled up and down a bit like a frenzied snake. But his troubles wouldn’t fly by like the ground no matter how much he wished they would. He was his problem. The rush of killing the deer ended quickly, but the adrenaline that coursed through him during the kidnapping was exponentially greater. Was that why his father killed? For that euphoric rush? If only he could shut his brain down and go to sleep forever. Well, you could, but he promised his grandfather he would never take his own life. That was a promise he had to keep. 

“Here’s good.”, chirped Bob stopping at some random spot along the road, he seemed completely unaffected by the entire kidnapping situation. Frank followed Bob, carrying one of the unconscious vampires over his shoulders. Bob was striding through the forest with confidence, it _seemed_ like he knew where he was going. Then, Frank gasped. There was an entire hidden town just in the trees. They were makeshift homes of wood from the trees cut down to create the clearing. There were eight homes in a semi-circle around a firepit made of various rocks in the center. The homes were split in groups of four with a much larger building in middle of the horseshoe. 

Bob smiled at the settlement, “Welcome to the vampire safe haven, American Eulogy.”. A vampire with messy black hair walked out of the left centermost home followed by two others, one with grown out bleach blonde hair and another with a brown mohawk. They all seemed to be about 84, or 40 in human years.  
“More people you decided not to kill.”, the black haired one scoffed. 

Bob turned his gaze down, “You know I can’t save everyone Billie.”, there was a raw shame than radiated of Bob’s words that Frank hadn’t heard before.

“And you must be the ringleaders son.”, the guy named Billie said, looking at Frank. “How many have you killed.”,

Franks throat tightened, “Nobody.”

Billie spit on the ground, “Trying to look at good guy aren’t you now? I know your father and all the horrible things he has done better than anyone should ever have to.” 

“Come on now, he could he telling the truth, look how innocent he looks.”, the bleach haired one said. 

“It’s true,”, Bob added, “He has refused to kill anybody at all getting him the lowest rank possible. This staged murder will be his considered first. The only reason he isn’t dead is for his lack of action is, because of his mother. 

“Well let’s bring them into cabin 5.”, said the blonde one. Cabin five was the right centermost one next to the big building. In the cabin had 4 bunks and a dresser each. There were spider webs all over the walls and in every corner.

“Better guard the door so they don’t go running out like headless chickens.” mohawk guy said.

“And so you two can explain what is going on.”, blonde added. Frank wanted to hear the answer to that as well, honestly he had no idea what he was doing. They all headed into the main cabin building. It was amazing inside, it seemed cozy with a cooler in one corner with what seemed to be a food station. There were rugs and sofas to fill the room with a homey vibe. Along with a drum set and electric guitars, bass guitars, amps, microphones, and a piano. They were somehow all plugged in. Solar power seemed to be the likely answer. They all sat around the gathering area to the left of all the instruments. The entire place was unreal. This wasn’t some thrown together little shack, they were actual homes and buildings. There seemed to be an air conditioning and heating system from what he could see on the walls. They also were off the outside weather wasn’t bad, made sense they would want to save energy for the winter. Vampires in general also needed less sleep and body temperature regulation being dead and all. 

Frank learned the names and how to identify the people they kidnapped. Gerard the black haired one, MIkey the also bleach blonde one, and Pete the loud one with brown hair. The brown mohawk guy was named Frank as well, but everyone called him Tré. The blonde was named Mike. They were the leaders and founders of an underground vampire protection and eventually revolution movement they call, American Eulogy. Eulogy means a praise to the dead. They haven’t gotten their praise and were going to get it. The goal is to stop the oppression of vampires and their murders across the USA and as far out as they could reach.  
“They are awake and squaking!”, Tré called from outside during his watch. Sure enough there were screams of concern and confusion using lots of creatively insulting language. 

“I’ll handle it!”, Mike replied, he was definitely the most diplomatic of the bunch. Frank and Bob were their kidnappers, Tré would scare them even more, and Billie currently too angry to help anyone. They certainly were talking loud, loud enough to listen to from inside the cabin.

“Don’t worry Mikey, I actually know these people!”, who Frank presumed to be Pete said, at least the voice sounded like someone who drank too much coffee. The voice lacked the expected terror of being kidnapped. “Patrick and I were kidnapped to them like a year ago or something.” There was a disapproving grunt. “ It isn’t as bad as it sounds. We have just been ejected from that little cabin instead of murdered. You can still go around town and stuff, just make sure everyone you know thinks you’re dead or swear on their souls not to tell.Your mom would or some trusted family.”, Pete explained. There was a doubting sigh, but nevertheless all five of them entered the cabin. Bursting in Pete looked around with recognition, the blonde Mikey stuck to Pete's side like he was Mikey's safety blanket, still a bit hesitant at the door. Gerard followed in behind the two, looking doubtful of the entire situation. Tré and Mike followed from behind. 

“Look there are our kidnappers, chilling on a couch.” Pete added. Mikey was taken aback and shuffled back an inch. Gerard visibly sucked in a breathe. Poor guy seemed to have been most affected by this so far. 

“Take a seat _I_ can explain things Pete.”, Billie stated sounding a bit bored. “We are American Eulogy, we want to protect and fight for the rights of all people, starting with our own, vampires. This is our forest base in New Jersey, a place to take refuge and were most our meetings take place. You guys are some of the lucky few who were ordered to be killed and got lucky enough to be kidnapped instead. It was supposed to be your dead bodies at your home not a new home here. We are at the important going to make moves time of the mission, we will start protecting the targeted people to be murdered. Bob and Frank are some of our inside men. Make sense?”. The two brothers stared at Billie wide eyed, processing all the information. “You guys can settle in. If you wish to join there is training right around the firepit starting at 7 am. Good day.”. Billie left the cabin heading out to do who knows what, leaving the two to stew in the heat of the situation. 

“Well damn.”, Gerard said with a steady voice laced in a hint of nervousness. “I guess we got a cause to fight for now.”. Frank had been sitting at his spot awkwardly the entire talk, and decided to head over to the others. Tré and Mike left as well, leaving the five of them in the cabin. 

“Hey, umm…. Sorry for kidnapping you guys and then dragging you guys into some place in the forest.”, Frank mumbled nervously, not making eye contact. This wasn’t covered in converstains 101. _This was my first time kidnapping someone? No that sounds fucking stupid..._ Hope this isn’t as messed up as dying. Oh yeah my name is Frank.”. _Way to be smooth forgetting to say your own name there._

“Hey! I’m Pete!”, Petes hair was also brown with the sides buzzed so the hair at the top of his head fell like mullet or something. But a really cool one that only went halfway down his neck. “This is Mikey and Gerard.”. Mikey looked really antisocial there was a hint of fear and bravery in his eyes, but it was otherwise expressionless. Gerard on the other hand shared what he was feeling like an open book. His eyebrows tensed together in distrust and his cheeks slightly sucked in. His hair somehow managed to fall in a way to compliment his face shape even if it had just been tossed around. His hazel eyes were alluring, ones that you could stare into for hours on end. He seemed to be assessing the situation as it unfolded. Mikey gave Frank a quick nod of a greeting, and Gerard gave a small wave. 

“We could go sit on the sofas if you want.”. The group walked in an awkward silence, Pete didn’t seem to think it was awkward though. 

“So, how do you know about this place Pete?”, Frank asked in an attempt at small talk once everyone was seated. 

“Awww, well it’s actually sorta a long story. So I was hanging out with my friend Patrick at my house. We are just relaxing when some werewolves break through the window and kidnap us much like how you guys did. Blood bags and everything! I would like to think we put up more of a fight then, because took us down too fast for comfort. But anyways when we wake up it’s in one of those cabins surrounded by Billie, Mikey, Tré, and our buds Andy and Joe. Obviously we are confused why our friends kidnapped us and explained all the stuff out. It’s really lucky that both times I was at an ambush house they were kidnap plannings! All four of us our in this band called Fall Out Boy that we do lowkey. And now we are also like the hippie friendship dudes or something. Our entire get up is that we all need to get along and not kill each other.”, Pete finished. 

“Wow that's cool, what instrument do you play?”, Frank asked to keep the conversation rolling. 

“I play bass, so does Mikey.” Mikey nodded. What a social fellow.

“I play guitar, but I’m sorta shitty at it so prefer singing.”, Gerard added. 

“Oh thats cool! I play guitar as well!”, Frank smiled, happy to find a similarity. 

“I play drums!”, Bob popped in. 

“Hey that's cool!”, Pete grinned. 

“Yeah music is great, the best way to hype up or unwind.”, Frank smiled.  
“I’ll need a dose of that after this situation.”, Gerard said also to himself. Awkward friendly laughter was queued. 

“I’ll stop by tomorrow, I need to be getting home to my dog. Maybe we could jam together or something.”, Frank asked hopefully.

“Sure sounds good!”, Gerard smiled. His smile lit up the room it was filled with unfiltered joy and life, if that moment were to be captured in all its glory a photo couldn’t get it could probably end wars. “Right Mikey?”, Gerard asked. 

“Yeah.”, Mikey replied monotony. 

“Bye!”. Frank left the building and the peculiar little clearing in the woods. Once in the trees, shivers ran up and down his spine. Ears tingle and he felt as he moved things slot into the second place they belong. He transformed and took off running back home in as far as he could in the tree cover. Running with four legs is drastically faster than doing the human shuffle, and he wasn’t about to steal Bob’s car. Eventually he made it to the edge of civilization were proper human form was required. He sped down the uneven sidewalks again. Opened the beat up door into his beat up apartment and a happy yapping Sweet Pea. Well at least happy food was to come. His routine went as normal, but Frank couldn’t get Gerards smile out of his mind. It was brief, pure, and unforgettable. He fell asleep with its shape on his mind, its purity imprinted on his eyes and mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops that took forever because I was idea broke. And didn't spell and grammar check stuff hehehe good job surviving!

**Author's Note:**

> I just started this because I was bored, but it seems fun and I might make this a series. I rambled on a bit about transforming into werewolves and vampires, hope the details helped give you more of a sense of this world though!


End file.
